Coffee's for Closers
by G.A. Clive
Summary: Steve struggles hard in adjusting to present day, and must try even harder when he falls for a special girl. Meanwhile, a young man in Brooklyn must follow in Cap's footsteps.


No matter how many times Steve thought that maybe he was _finally_ adjusting to the new-fangled 21st century, he would always be proven wrong. One such occasion landed Steve in a viewing of Rocky Horror Picture Show at the theater down the street from Stark Tower.

First, there were no news reels and surely this wasn't from a lack of news. He did help stop an alien invasion last month, after all. Oh well, the movie trailers were nice at least... but he would _always_ prefer the cartoons they used to show.

The confusion only increased when the movie started, and continued to escalate as the plot (if there was a definite one) progressed. Confusion turned to horror when he finally turned to the woman with purple hair next to him, "Excuse me, but is that a man or woman?"

The woman glared at him and whispered back, "What were you homeschooled or something?" Steve meekly apologized and left his seat. He decided that that would be the last time he watched a new movie alone. The guys wouldn't make fun of his childish questions...

...well, they wouldn't be mean at least.

He stepped out of the theater and released a sigh. Ever since he had moved from the S.H.I.E.L.D. base to an apartment in Stark Tower he had been determined to get out and rediscover New York City. So far he had only made it one hour and he was already considering going home. He hadn't even found the few things he was actually looking for.

"So where you off to, today? Gonna find some new bars; maybe a couple strip clubs?" Stark had asked "I can even point you to a couple nice vintage places, a bit of that old timey vibe... thing."

"No, thanks," Steve had blushed at the mention of strip clubs, "I just want to find a library, a church, and maybe a nice place to sit and relax like a coffee shop." Clint had raved about a chain of coffee shops called Starbucks. Being a coffee lover himself, Steve knew that that would be his kind of place.

Tony stared at him blankly for a moment, just like he would at a new design. Slowly his face turned from blank consideration to bewilderment. "Church? Library?"

"And Starfish!" Steve was ready to defend himself if need be, Tony didn't intimidate him... much.

"Starbucks," Tony sighed. "And sight seeing? You don't want to do that?"

"Uh... maybe some other time," Steve was quite honestly distrustful of any type of sightseeing that Tony would recommend.

Now that he had had that one culture shock he was ready for something easier to get used to, a coffee shop. He stood outside the movie theater and looked up and down the street, trying not to get overwhelmed by the people. This part of town was only slightly damaged compared to the other streets that were invaded, only a few business buildings and a bank looked worse for wear... the bank especially with large chunks of wall missing from it's outside surface. The cafe across from the bank seemed unharmed...

He walked towards the cafe, his nose drawing him closer to the origin of a coffee smell that called to him. It was a small sit down cafe with a pleasant patio outside on the sidewalk. He paused at the gate to the patio area and read the "Feel Free to Seat Yourself!" sign before he did as it said. He sigh in contentment when he sat at a table underneath one of the few potted trees that surrounded the edge of the patio, they must have been recent additions since the Chitauri invasion.

He reached for the menu that rested on the table and flipped through it briefly before noticing that there was a blank paper placemat in front of him, he'd have to fix that after he ordered. A shadow fell across the white tabletop and he looked up to greet the waitress. A pretty blonde smiled down at him, "Hello, I'm Beth." Steve smiled.

* * *

In the locker room of a high school in Brooklyn, 16 year old Thomas Flint slumped against the tiled wall of the empty shower room while the sounds of laughter echoed away as six seniors who had roughed him up left to go home. Tom, as his family called him (he had no friends), wiped at the specks of blood that trickled from his nose.

He rubbed the liquid between his fingertips until it dissolved and reached up to wipe more away. His hand came away dry this time and he sniffed experimentally to make sure the bleeding had stopped. He looked back at his bloodstained fingertips and stared intently at them, willing himself to focus on anything besides his humiliation.

But then he noticed he wasn't staring at his fingertips anymore. "What the hell..." He blinked and saw his hands again, stared intently again and...

"Holy cow!" He blinked and refocused his eyes several times and on different objects before he was certain he wasn't hallucinating.

Dried smears of blood became individual cells. His blue shirt became an almost infinite field of singular fibers. The black dots on the tile transformed into separate spores of mold.

After the initial shock wore off, he muttered one profound statement: "I'm totally gonna ace biology now!"


End file.
